How Will I Know?
by SophiaBushFan
Summary: Sequel to "As Sung By"! Kurt & Puck have called it quits, but was that really what they wanted? What happens when people start to figure it out, and more importantly, when other boys start to notice Kurt; they way Puck used to-the way he still does.
1. Angel

How Will I Know?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1-Angel

_God send me an angel  
From the heavens above  
Send me an angel to heal my broken heart  
From being in love  
'Cause all I do is cry  
God send me an angel  
To wipe the tears from my eyes (Amanda Perez)_

…

Kurt Hummel sat slouched on the bench at a bus stop only several blocks from the walls of William McKinley High; he waved dismissively at the bus driver who had stopped, thinking the young boy was waiting to board. With a soft rumble the bus sped back up and disappeared down the street. It was not long, however, before another vehicle passed him, this time it was an old black Mustang, but Kurt paid it about as much mind as he had the bus, he didn't even notice when a young man stepped out, mentioning something along the lines of "It's okay, mom, I know him, see you." The echoing of the door when it closed did not even faze Kurt.

It was not until the old wooden bench buckled under the pressure of another body that Kurt realized he was not alone. Kurt frowned and stared up at his new bench-sitting partner with sad eyes, "Hey, Finn." Kurt looked away again, back to the asphalt.

Finn looked worried, he may not have been the smartest kid in his class, but even he could tell when something was bothering someone. It also helped that instead of a meticulously matched outfit Kurt was dressed in a pair of simple black skinny jeans; and the fabric that covered his knees was stained green and brown, as if Kurt had been kneeling on the ground. Since when did Kurt get on his knees to do anything? Finn's mind began to race to places far unexpected and he shook himself to rid his brain of the vastly unfamiliar and inappropriate images. He decided it best to just keep looking at Kurt. A pair of black and white Converse, and a pale grey (well worn) Ohio State University sweatshirt—his hands were stuffed in the front pocket. Not to mention Kurt's eyes were decorated with dark circles, and swollen, and his nose was red. And to top it off Kurt's usually perfectly quaffed hair was slightly disheveled and his bangs hung loosely against his forehead.

Had Kurt been crying, the boy wondered to himself. More than that Kurt looked as if he had not slept since Finn last saw him on Friday right after Glee practice.

Who this person was it wasn't Kurt. At least not the Kurt he knew, and cared about. With a gentle ease, something he was accustom to for being so big, Finn put a hand on Kurt's shoulder as he shook his backpack off his right shoulder and let it fall to the ground. "Kurt, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" Finn tried to be as gentle with his tone as he had been with his touch, but for the amount of worry that had consumed him he found it to be a far more daunting task.

"How is your mother doing, Finn?" Kurt did not look at him. "Is she well?"

Finn frowned in confusion, "Yeah, she's alright. Just doing the mom-thing." The mom-thing? _That _was the best he could come up with? Finn made a mental note to beat his head against his bedroom wall when he got home.

Kurt's bottom lip quivered and he looked as if he was about to burst at any moment, like whatever it was he was holding inside was too much for his small body to hold on to. "That's good." Kurt pushed the words out as if they almost hurt. "It's important for a boy to have his mother."

"Kurt…I don't think I am under…" Finn trailed off. The realization of what was happening hit him like a train of linebackers. Kurt's mom. This was about the boy's mother. His _dead_ mother.

Kurt turned to his friend, "Eleven years. It's been eleven years, Finn." His eyes were full of tears and he stared up at the other boy as if Finn possessed the answers he needed, the reasons behind why it had to be _his _mother. He looked at Finn as if the taller teen could somehow make it better, "Why does it hurt so badly, Finn?" Kurt started to sob and gasp for air as clear rivers descended his feminine features. "I—I can—t—brea—it—hurts!" Kurt choked through his mangled sentence and Finn swallowed hard, his own heart beginning to hurt.

Finn did the only thing he could think of and moved the hand that had been pressing against Kurt's shoulder and wrapped it around the entire length of his back, from shoulder to shoulder, and pulled the small teen against his chest. Finn wanted to speak, to do _something_. He had to make this better for Kurt's sake. Finn knew what it was like to lose a parent, but in some ways Kurt had it worse. He had never known his father, yet Kurt had spent the better part of ten years with his mother, just to have her ripped away.

Kurt gripped desperately at the fabric of Finn's flannel shirt and continued to choke and sob and cry into the boy's chest. If it had been a normal day Kurt would have felt bad for staining the other boy's shirt with his tears or for causing such a scene, but today? Today it hurt too much to think—to care, about anything.

As Kurt kept on Finn rubbed soft circles along the small of his back with his other hand, the one that was not currently clinging to the other boy, and cooed into his ear and without thinking he pressed his lips to Kurt's temple; not caring who saw or what they thought or how he and Kurt looked. The only thing that mattered now was Kurt.

…

It had taken a good forty five minutes, their entire first period, but eventually Kurt calmed down, Finn hoped that it had been because of him—that he had helped, but in actuality it was more likely that Kurt had simply run out of tears.

"Come on, buddy." Finn whispered as he stood, holding out a hand for Kurt. The brunette looked up in pained confusion. "School, we gotta get there soon." Kurt chewed his bottom lip nervously and shook his head in the negative with a vehement force. "Yes." Finn picked up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder and then in one forceful motion he hooked his arms under Kurt's and pulled the smaller boy to his feet. Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Finn wouldn't allow it. "If you go home, or sit here," he motioned to the bench, "all day, you're going to keep thinking about it more than you have to. Not to mention you'll end up with an ass full of splinters." Finn's smiled beamed down at the other boy when he found that Kurt cracked a small smile to match.

"Now, come on." Finn tugged at the sleeve of Kurt's sweatshirt and the other's mouth dropped.

"Finn, no! I can't!" Kurt looked down at his outfit, "I must look terrible." Finn smiled. "Finn Hudson! How dare you relish in my turmoil." Kurt sounded sad again.

Finn shook his head enthusiastically, "No, no, no! It's just that you look…" Kurt watched him warily, "normal. You look like…" Finn made a face as he thought hard about where to take this conversation. He fumbled a few times before he simply shrugged, "I don't know. I just like it. You look like you're you…" Kurt arched a brow, thoroughly confused. "Like usually you're all covered in Pucci this and Gada that."

It took Finn by surprise, but Kurt nearly doubled over in laughter. Finn looked slightly hurt, "Why are you laughing at me?" He asked a little accusingly.

Kurt waved his hand, '"I'm not laughing _at_ you…" Kurt paused and thought for a moment, "never mind, yeah, I am!" Kurt smiled as he placed a hand on his quivering stomach. "But mostly," he stepped closer to Finn and hugged the bigger boy, "I'm grateful _for _you."

Instantly Finn forgot he was even upset and he was just grateful, too.

…

A ten minute walk and a failed excuse on Kurt's part about not having school supplies, and the two boys arrived at McKinley.

"Nice try, Kurt, but I know you keep extra everything in your locker. Hairspray, pencils, notebooks, and a jump drive with all your notes on it."

Kurt narrowed his eyes playfully, "Creeper."

Finn smiled, "Like you haven't been creepin' me since, I don't know, kindergarten?"

"Finn!" Kurt swatted Finn's arm just as they reached Kurt's locker.

"It's the truth." Finn rebuffed as Kurt made quick work of opening his locker.

The first things Kurt grabbed where his travel size bottle of Alterna hairspray, a pocket size comb, and a mini bottle of Alterna White Truffle facial scrub, and a small bag of various kinds of creamy white make-up. "Will you wait here for me? We've got second period together and I would rather not be alone right now."

"Of course." Was Finn's only respond, and a smile to match.

Kurt smiled in appreciation and disappeared into the girl's bathroom down the hall.

…

It had been ten minutes and Finn was beginning to wonder what was taking so long, but then he remembered he was waiting on Kurt. That meant he could be here till the last bell of the day. "Oof!"

Finn was pulled from his thoughts as someone roughly nudge him with their fist. "What are you doing out here?" He looked to his side and found Puck standing with a suspicious expression plastered across his face.

"Nothing, I was just waiting for…a friend."

Puck's expression only grew more incredulous, but before he interrogate the quarterback any further the sound of the bathroom door echoed and both boys grew silent.

Finn barely recognized his friend. The large sweatshirt now hung over his arm, and now the only thing covering his upper body was the plain white fabric of a too-tight tee; Finn could have sworn that he could see the muscle in Kurt's stomach moving as he walked.

Also, the grass stains which had previously debased the fabric of Kurt's jeans were now barely noticeable. And the only thing he could focus on was the way that Kurt's legs seemed to go on forever and the way the pants seemed to envelop his legs like a second skin.

And Kurt's face was as clear as ever. The color of his cheeks was even and his nose was no longer red and the bags and circles that had claimed the space beneath his baby blue eyes home were no longer there. All traces of sadness and evidence of pain were gone. Kurt looked good.

Kurt looked normal.

Kurt looked sexy.

And he kind of _liked_ it.

Finn nearly choked as he tried to swallow, his eyes darted back and forth, hoping that Puck had not noticed, but when he cast a glance in the other boy's direction he seemed just as distracted—wait what?

Puck's lips were parted slightly and his tongue was pressed up against his teeth and he seemed to breathing kind of hard, but what was stranger that that was the darkness that seemed to be clouding his eyes: the _want_.

Puck wanted Kurt?

Finn shook himself of the ridiculous thought just Kurt reached them both, "Thank you so much for waiting, Finn. I can always count on _you." _Kurt reopened his locker and cast an unreadable glance at Puck, "Hello, Noah." He turned back to his locker and began to place everything back inside; trading the beauty supplies for a notebook, binder, and two pens.

Puck only nodded as a way of acknowledging Kurt's greeting, Finn looked over at him and noticed that Puck seemed to be focusing on something intently, he followed Puck's gaze, and found himself staring down at Kurt's ass.

For a moment Finn was just as intrigued, but again, he rid himself of the unfamiliar thoughts and turned his gaze back to Puck, shoot him a questioning glace. This time Puck noticed and seemed flinch before shooting straight up and clearing his throat, "What are you two doing roaming the halls? Looking for a place get it on." Puck made a face of mock disgust.

To this Kurt let out a disbelieving laugh and slammed his locker, "Sometimes, I forget why we don't spend more time together, Noah, and then I see you. Clears that thought right up."

Puck glared at the shorter boy, but said nothing. He had to say he was surprised how easily things had gone back to the way they were after he and Kurt stopped seeing each other in secret. Then again, Kurt seemed to have rebounded back to old habits anyway; he cast a glance at Finn. "Whatever, Princess."

Kurt rolled his eyes and tugged at Finn's shirt, "Come on, _Finn_," he watched Puck's face and took satisfaction when his features tensed up at the way he had said Finn's name, "_we _have Spanish. Mr. Shue's already going to kill us for being this late." With that Kurt began down the hallway, with Finn following soon after.

"Later, Puck." Finn tossed a small wave in his friend's direction as he passed by. "See ya at lunch."

"Whatever." Was all Noah said in response.

…

Author's Note: There it is! Chapter one of the sequel to "As Sung By". Please, do not forget to review. I really want to know what you guys think. Your opinions mean the world to me. And do not worry; there will be lots of Kurt/Puck action to come. I'm actually thinking there may be some in the next chapter. We'll see, I suppose. Hehe. And I was also thinking of asking or finding someone to be my BETA. That's someone who helps with the proofreading and stuff, right? I could definitely use help in that department. So, if anyone wants the job, I would love the help. Plus, that means you'd know what happens before everyone else. Lol!


	2. I'll Meet You There

How Will I Know?

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

...

Chapter Two: I'll Meet You There

_Oh, I tend to disappear here and there_

_So concentrate and you'll feel me everywhere_

_And we'll fill the metro skies with country air_

_If you're lost when you close your eyes, I'll meet you there_

_...I'll meet you there (Owl City)_

...

Kurt sat silently in the still empty cafeteria, methodically peeling back the layers of the banana Finn had so graciously shared with him for lunch.

Finn looked around the cafeteria, it was completely empty, other than the lunch ladies who could be heard banging around in the kitchen preparing for the upcoming onslaught of hungry teenagers; the pair had managed to be excused early from Mr. Shuester's lesson after Brittany had asked what the term "Madre" meant. Finn frowned-Kurt had taken that one like a bullet straight to the face, or in this case, to the heart. Finally, Finn turned his attention back to his friend who was still working his hands over the tip of the banana, he shifted uncomfortably at the sight, trying his best not to think of all the ways it was wrong and ironic, and hot? _Hot?_! Finn nearly jumped from the table and he could feel all the blood in him rush to his face; he was thankful choice of direction. At least he was until Kurt looked up and took notice of his crimson cheeks.

"Finn?" Kurt eyed him curiously. "Is something the matter?"

Finn shook his head vigorously, "No!" Kurt seemed to ease back a little at the loudness of Finn's voice; it probably did not help that his voice had echoed off the cold cafeteria walls, resounding around them. Finn fixed a quick smile in Kurt's direction, "Nah, I just forgot about a quiz I have fourth period and I forgot to study."

Kurt placed the banana down gently on the pile of neatly folded napkins that sat before him and arched a perfectly sculpted brow, "That is one way to go about answering my question." Kurt narrowed his eyes just a bit, a trick he knew was the easiest way to apply pressure and get Finn to cave, "Now, how about the truth?"

Finn swallowed hard and let out a shaky, "That was the truth."

Another brow arch, "Finn you have a free period fourth period. Every day." Finn just looked down at his sandwich and began to pick at it, "Finn," Kurt lowered his voice, his tone almost sad, and looked up at his friend through a matching pair of long lashes, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly, "You're really going to chose today of all days to _lie _to me." Kurt frowned and looked down at the table, "I thought we had grown closer than that." Kurt sighed heavily, "I guess I was wrong."

"Okay, okay, just stop! You matter, alright? You matter lots."

Kurt looked up again, his pout still in place, "Prove it."

Finn looked around nervously, "...banana, you were...the banana..." Finn mumbled looking down at his hands.

For a moment Kurt was confused, the fact that he had barely heard, let alone understood Finn did not help matters, "Banana?" Kurt thought for a moment, his question directed more to himself than to Finn. With a quick glance down at the piece of fruit in question; it sat innocently, it's layers pulled back just enough so that the head of the banana was peeking through, waiting to be engulfed..."Oooh!" Kurt was silent for a moment before he exploded into a fit of uproarious laughter. "You...me...Hahaha! Banana!" Kurt continued to laugh and after a few tense moments on Finn's part the taller boy began to laugh as well.

When there amusement had come to a head and finally sated itself, Kurt looked to his friend, a brilliant smile dancing on his lips, "Thank you for that, Finn." Finn nodded, however, before he could say anything else the cafeteria doors burst open, the thin metal doors slapping against the cement walls.

"Muh, baabyy!"

Kurt's eyes widen and he froze-Mercedes. He could hear her coming, her surely bright, neon colored sneakers squeaking against the shiny floor, and he knew he was in for it. He had not responded to her texts or answered her calls all weekend; and this morning he'd left his house in such a daze he had forgotten to grab anything, including his phone. He had to have missed another twenty five texts and a dozen phone calls.

Kurt did not have too long to pity himself before he was swooped up into a huge hug, "Omigod! I have been so worried about you! Where have you been?" Kurt returned the hug just as ferociously as he received it-taking a deep comfort in the familiar scent of her Sweet Pea body lotion. It took all he had to not cry again, but this was not the time or place, soon the room would be filled with teens. And he would never let _them _see him cry, over anything.

"I'm so sorry, Cedes." He pulled back to grace her with an apologetic smile.

Mercedes nodded and after one last squeeze she released him from her grip and reached for his hand. "What's wrong? What happened to you?" She looked him over once before returning her questioning gaze to his face, "Since when do you leave the house in a pair of _jeans_?" She said the word as if Kurt was above the item of clothing in question. "I mean you still look good, you're you, but I know something's..." She trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the rest.

Kurt swallowed hard, "Not here, honey. Just not right now." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, "I will fill you in, but I cannot do it here. I cannot promise myself that I won't break down, and that is just not something I can allow myself to do in this place."

Mercedes forehead flexed with worry, "Did...did someone _hurt _you?" She could barely get the words out because she was so terrified by the thought.

"No, no! Nothing like that!" Kurt assured her.

But she did not take the bait so easily, "If one of those hockey nimrods touched you or..." her eyes narrowed considerably, "Was it Puck?"

Kurt flinched at the mention of the other boy's name, but thankfully not hard enough for Mercedes to take notice. "Please, I handled that weeks ago." He smiled.

Her gaze softened, "You're sure?" He nodded and smiled and she seemed to finally relax.

Now it was Kurt's turn to do some questioning, "How did you even know where I was? The bell hasn't even rung yet to end class and start lunch." Not a moment after he got the words out, the bell sounded, signaling the end of third period, "Okay, well, it hadn't yet."

Mercedes cast a glance toward Finn, "White boy texted me. Said he thought you could use me."

Kurt's heart swelled and he looked over to Finn who was still seated, blushing yet again, but softer this time, "Thank you." Kurt smiled and hoped that it expressed all of the emotion and gratitude he felt in that moment. Finn smiled in return.

Mercedes watched the exchange between the two with a piqued interest, "Did I skip a chapter here?" Both males turned to their mutual friend and fellow glee clubber with matching expressions of curiosity, "Nuh uh, don't try and act like y'all don't know what I mean."

"Mercedes," Kurt began, "I can assure you neither of us knows what you're talking about." He reclaimed his seat at the table and Mercedes followed suit, claiming the one next to her best friend. "Finn's just been very helpful today. He's the one who found me and convinced me to come in today."

"Found you?" Mercedes bellowed just as the first rush of students began to filter into the lunch room, "Oh, hell no! Nuh uh! I do not like that expression."

Kurt frowned, "Maybe that choice of words was a bit negligent, but I would appreciate it if we could allow the topic to drop until later. Please?" He pleaded with her through his eyes, just as he had done with Finn earlier-she caved.

"Fine. But just for now." She eased up and smiled when Kurt wrapped and arm around her and gave an appreciative squeeze. "Oh, and you," She pointed to Finn; the boy froze under her penetrating gaze.

"Yuh?" He asked, his mouth full with a piece of his sandwich.

Both friends frowned, "First, learn to swallow, and then speak," Kurt nodded in agreement, "and, secondly, do not get too comfortable with my boy here. _I'm _the best friend here." Kurt laughed as Finn paled and offered a soft nod. "And, thirdly," her tone softened, "thank you. For looking after my boy." Finn nodded, more sure of himself this time.

...

Soon the cafeteria and their table were full.

Kurt smiled, as did Quinn and Rachel, when they noticed Artie and Tina sneaking a quick peck. Mercedes announced that she would soon return, but that she was in desperate need of food, Rachel offered to keep her company; however, it was not long after the pair wandered across the large room, that Mercedes' seat was occupied.

"Hey, Puck." Finn greeted his friend, but everyone else at the table seemed to let out a collective sigh.

"Good to see all of you, losers, too." Puck bit out and Kurt and Quinn simultaneously rolled their eyes. "Anyway, Hummel, "Kurt groaned in response and turn to the teen with a bored expression, "Hey, now, chill with the attitude, Marc Jacobs." Everyone froze at that. "What?" He asked, not comfortable with the way of the Gleeks were staring at him.

"_You_ know who Marc Jacobs is?" Quinn asked disbelievingly.

"I pay attention." The halfback responded. The rest of the table continued to just stare. Finn looked as if he had no idea who Puck was. "Whatever," he replied gruffly, and looked back to Kurt. "Here," He pressed a set of folded up papers into the Cheerio's chest. "Homework worksheets from first period. Mr. Keller said that everyone had to turn them in tomorrow, on time. Thought you might want 'em." Kurt arched a brow, the rest of the table still sat quietly, they were all dazed and overwhelmed with confusion. "Whatever." Puck echoed and stood up, the papers falling for a moment, but Kurt caught them.

_"Who _was that?" Artie was the first to speak.

"I have no idea." Kurt watched as Puck disappeared into mass of bodies and then out of sight.

Again, the seat was not empty for long, "What'd I miss?"

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." Was Finn's response, Quinn nodded in agreement.

The kids seemed to recover from the encounter and began to talk amongst themselves once more, but Kurt took the time to unfold the set of papers Puck had thrusted into his grasp. As he fingered through them, pretty standard stuff-a few questions about the Civil War and Industrial Revolution, at least it was all standard until Kurt came to the third page, scribbled across the top in Puck's usual illegible chicken scratch was a request to meet. Kurt grabbed Mercedes' phone off of the table and hit the lock button, causing the small device to light up, displaying the time.

The request was to meet in ten minutes.

Kurt gripped the set of papers tightly and closed his eyes just as securely and sighed heavily. The smart thing to do would be to leave Puck waiting there. To ignore his request. Yes, that was what he had to do. That was the _smart _thing to do.

Kurt set the phone back down and looked up to be greeted by several curious expressions. He packed the papers into his binder, placed his notebook on top of the red and white organizer and swooped them up in one elegant motion, and then stood from the table.

"Kurt? Where you go-going?" Tina asked, and it seemed his other friends were curious to what the answer was as well.

"There are some questions on here that I am definitely going to need to go over with Mr. Keller. Lunch is always the best time to catch him."

"You have the highest grade in our History class. In _any _History class." Mercedes answered accusingly.

"And I maintain that grade by seeking out help when I need it." Kurt answered quickly.

"I'll come with you." She responded.

"No." Kurt replied too quickly, he smiled, "I mean, no," he spoke more calmly, "I can handle it. This should only take a second, and besides, you were just talking about how hungry you were." He nodded toward her tray. "Don't worry, I will be back before lunch is even half over." He flashed a quick smile before racing away, giving no one a chance to protest or join him.

This was one scene he was sure did not require an audience.

...

Kurt made a quick stop at his locker to rid himself of his school supplies and to kill time-he did not want to seem eager to see the other boy. Actually, he was not sure he wanted to see him at all.

_Liar. _Kurt silently teased himself.

Once his supplies had been disposed of, Kurt made another stop along the familiar path to the choir room: the girls' bathroom. A quick bang sweep and a few smooth brushes with his hands against his shirt, and he deemed himself ready to go. Just because he had cut Noah off, or more accurately ended their tawdry little affair all together, did not mean that he did not want Noah to regret pushing Kurt away till the day he died.

On his way to the choir room Kurt smiled, thinking back to the flustered compliment Finn had given him earlier—about how simple suited him. He could feel his cheeks grow slightly warm before pushing his emotions back down.

That was a road he could not afford to venture down again. He had a good thing going with Finn now. They were close. Kurt was not going to jeopardize that.

By the time the counter-tenor had pulled himself from his thoughts he found himself outside of the choir room. With a deep breath and a quick release, he took a hold of the handle, turned, pushed and stepped inside.

"Hello, Noah."

...

Author's Note: Ooh, clifferhangeriness! I was going to give it to you right now, the meeting that is, but then I was like "No! Cliffhanger good!". Don't fret, mon petite frères. I am going to be kind and post the third chapter along with this one! Cause I love you! Lots! So love me in return and **review** this chapter and the next! **Please**! It'll make me write faster! And I really do want to know if you are enjoying this story, like you did the first one.


	3. Express Yourself

How Will I Know?

Disclaimer: Me own nothing.

...

Chapter Three: Express Yourself

_Long stem roses are the way to your heart; he needs to start with your head_

_Satin sheets are very romantic; what happens when you're not in bed_

_You deserve the best in life, so if the time isn't right then just move on_

_Second best is never enough (Madonna)_

...

Puck stood from his seated position across the room, his hands buried in his pockets. Kurt watched him from his place by the door; their eyes locked and the moment seemed far too intense, but neither wanted to be the first to look away for fear of losing some unspoken battle or imaginary high ground in the situation. Luckily, the sound of the door closing and the lock popping into place pulled both of their attention away from each other, even if it were only just for a moment.

"Kurt, you came." Puck descended from the top level of seating until he was on the main floor of the room.

Hands firmly resting on his slender hips Kurt looked incredulously at the other male, "Oh, are we back on a first name basis? I must not have gotten that newsletter."

Puck sighed, but his tone remained un-harsh, "Can you just not be a bitch right now?"

Kurt crossed his arms, "What do you want, Noah?" He shifted uncomfortably beneath the jock's gaze.

Noah shrugged, "Dunno, I just thought maybe we should talk."

"About what? What could _we _possibly have to talk about? You, for a lack of a better term, broke up with me."

Puck stepped a few paces closer, "That's not true!"

Kurt scoffed, "You made out with Santana _Ho_pez! And then _hit _me!"

Puck laughed, "I don't mean to go all schoolyard on you, Princess, but you hit me first. And I only made out with Santana, because..." Puck trailed off with a shake of his head and a disgruntled noise echoing from the back of his throat.

Kurt sighed, his arms falling helplessly, "Is this really what you wanted to talk about?"

For a while Puck didn't say anything, he seemed to be thinking too hard, as if what he wanted to say would make the situation worse, if that were even possible. "I saw you this morning."

Kurt swallowed nervously, "What are you talking about?"

"On that bench." Puck shifted uncomfortably, "You were crying."

"Oh." Was all Kurt could say.

"What happened? Did someone, you know, hurt you?"

Kurt frowned, "Why is it so easy for people in this town to come to that assumption?" Puck shrugged, confused, "No. No one _hurt _me."

"Then what was it?" Puck pressed on.

For a moment Kurt hesitated, but his eyes quickly grew cold and he seemed to be withdrawn, even more so than he already was, "You do _not _get to ask me that."

Puck looked down and then back up, shuffling his feet awkwardly, "I just thought..." He trailed off, unsure of exactly what it was he thought. He just knew the sight of Kurt on that bench, broken and beaten—like he had totally given up on, well, on everything, was not a sight he was okay with.

"You thought wrong." Kurt's tone no longer held the animosity it had moments prior. Now he just seemed to be stating a fact.

The room grew silent for a long time before Kurt finally spoke again, "What do you _want_, Noah." Kurt sounded desperate, and as much as he hated that, he hated standing in front of Noah even more. He just could not handle this today. Not _today_.

"Can we try again?"

"Are you for real?" Kurt's question was nearly a laugh. Noah merely nodded in response, "Why on God's green earth would I ever agree to that?"

"Come on," Puck's tone had changed. It was deep and sounded more like a sultry growl than real English. He wasn't Noah anymore, no, he was Puck-_zilla_. Kurt frowned, he knew exactly where this was headed, "You know it wasn't all bad, babe." He stepped closer to Kurt with each word, until he was just inches away from the other boy. "You know you liked it. Like the way it felt." Puck purred as he snaked an arm around Kurt's waist it and pulled him closer. He smiled at the puff of breath and the soft, almost inaudible groan the boy let out, "Atta boy. There's _my _boy."

Kurt looked up at the other, his pupils huge and his eyes hazy and clouded with emotion-mostly with desire. "I am _not _your boy."

"Whatever." Puck breathed the word against Kurt's lips before he captured them against his own. Puck smiled against Kurt's mouth as the boy moaned into his and pressed himself even deeper into to Puck's body; their groins meeting in a blaze of passion. Kurt arched his feet up and Puck tightened his grip to support him, while Kurt's arms traveled up and around Puck's neck.

Another moan.

Puck began to grind teasingly against Kurt's pelvis-he was playing dirty. Kurt responded in kind and trailed his nails against the soft skin of Noah's head, causing the more masculine teen to shake with pleasure.

"Hell, yeah, baby." Puck moaned against Kurt's lips. The kiss continued and Puck's free hand traveled back behind Kurt and gave his butt a firm squeeze, eliciting another moan from the boy. "God, I missed this." Puck mumbled in a lust drunken haze.

Somehow Puck's confession brought Kurt back to reality and he pushed at Puck's muscular chest. "No...get...off!"

Thankfully Puck did not fight Kurt's request but once he had relinquished the other he stared down at him with an annoyed expression, "The hell, Hummel?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at the use of his last name and smoothed out his clothes before looking Puck in the eyes. "I am not doing _this_," he motioned between them, "again."

"_Whhyy, _damn it?" Puck paused for a moment. Had he just whined? Hell no! A badass does not whine.

"Seriously? Seriously? Are you for real, Noah?" Kurt seemed to be even more passionate than when he had his lips pressed against Puck's. "The last time we were alone together you called me a, and I quote, 'little slut', and you have the audacity to ask me why I don't want to get into this again?" Puck nodded and Kurt groaned in frustration. "Fine, Noah, if you need an explanation, then I will give you one."

"Do you remember this morning, when you saw me?" Kurt asked.

Puck nodded, "Yeah, I brought it up, so obviously I remember."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "My point is I never even knew you were around. I sat there on a bench bawling my eyes out and you made no effort to help me. To see what was wrong."

"What do you call this?" Puck protested.

Kurt sighed, "This?" He nodded his head toward the back of the empty classroom, "This is you sneaking me into a locked room by means of a message scrawled on my homework. This is you _pretending _to care, so that you can get back into my good graces, and hopefully, into my pants."

"You think I was pretending?" Kurt nodded and Puck glared in return, "You know, I don't have to be doing this. If I want to get some I could have fifteen different chicks up in here right now."

"_That!_" Kurt pointed at the rebellious teen, "That, right there, is why we cannot do this again. The fact that you would throw it in my face that I could be so easily replaced is a testament to why this is wrong, on some many levels." Puck went to speak, but Kurt continued, "This is not what I want, Noah. This is the very opposite of what I want." Kurt sighed, he almost looked sorry for what he was about to say, "You're just not _that _guy."

"You won't even give me a chance to try."

"What do you call weeks of making out with you?" Again, Noah tried to interject, but Kurt would not allow him, "Look, Noah, this was, I guess in some weird way, a noble effort, but it just is not enough. You are so desperate to not be seen with me that you would rather leave me alone on a bench crying my eyes out than help me or offer some sort of hand. Like Finn."

Puck groaned, "I knew it! That is what this is really about. You're still hung up on that giant oak tree!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "First of all, I am not 'hung up on' him, or anyone. Secondly, the fact that you can refer to your _best friend _with such malice and find nothing wrong with it, proves that you're not the kind of guy I need." Kurt hesitated for a moment before he pressed on, "You may know how to make me feel good and moan like a little _slut_," Kurt practically bit the word in half as it left his mouth, "but it just does not go further than that. You do not know how to be in a relationship with anyone. I'm not even sure you can manage a healthy relationship with yourself."

"Me and myself get along just fine." Puck wiggled his eyebrows and made a fist and pumped it in front of his crotch several times.

"Please, you call yourself 'Puckosaorus' and 'Puck-Zilla', and make sexual hand gestures at inappropriate times. That is far from a healthy relationship. That's the one you need to work on before you can be ready to try being with someone else, especially with me."

"What are you saying, Kurt?"

The use of his first name did not escape the smaller boy's attention, but it did not change anything, "If you can prove that you know how to be in a relationship and be mature and treat me with some semblance of decency, then maybe, we can take this somewhere. Be something-something real. If you can express some kind of real emotion towards me, something other than, lust, then there might just be hope for you yet." Kurt tried his best to offer a small smile, "Until then, goodbye, Noah."

"And if I don't?" Taller teen asked as the other turned and reached for the door.

Kurt looked back over his shoulder, "Then I guess you'll save us both a lot of trouble," the next part he spoke so softly he was sure Puck could not have heard him, "and pain." And then he was gone.

Puck did not bother trying to argue or to chase after the other boy; even a badass knew when he had lost. Which was _not _frequently.

...

Author's Note: Well, what did you think? Let me know! I will try and update A.S.A.P. Much love!


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